


Let It All Out

by vidoxi



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Emetophilia, Emetophobia, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 03:11:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8780830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vidoxi/pseuds/vidoxi
Summary: just some short scenarios of all the RFA members losing their lunch lolol





	

**Author's Note:**

> i just read the part on deep story where 707 keeps talking about how he feels like he needs to throw up and i was just like;;;;; BOI;;; ...and it got me thinking lol
> 
> also this is the first mysme puke thing i think... like in the fandom i mean

**jumin:** He’s running late to an important meeting, but he already skipped breakfast and is starving, so out of desperation he decides to try some commoner food and gets fast food on the drive to the meeting. His digestion tract, previously untouched by all this fatty, greasy, MSG-filled garbage, absolutely balks, and his stomach is rumbling before he’s even finished eating. At the meeting, Jumin has one hand pressed to his aching stomach beneath the table, trying to focus on what’s being said, but he just feels so awful it’s hard to concentrate. When the nausea and distress starts making him visibly sweat, his father asks him if he’s okay. Everyone turns to look at him and he opens his mouth to say he’s fine, but instead what comes out instead is his bad decision, all over his $3,000 suit.

 **zen:** He’s filming a fight sequence for an action movie script he landed the lead role in. He insisted that he do his own stunts, so he’s been rehearsing for this scene for weeks now. However, he makes one small slip up and instead of dodging the kick from the bad guy like he’s supposed to, he gets a foot driven straight into his stomach with incredible force. Zen hears the cast and crew gasp as he drops to his knees in the fetal position, clutching at his spasming stomach. The cameras are still rolling as he empties himself on set. For weeks after, there’s a nasty red and purple bruise are all over his perfectly sculpted abs.

 **yoosung:** His poor tummy is absolutely fit to bursting with all the chocolate milk he’s drank. The evidence is all over his tiny apartment, empty cartons everywhere. He lays on his back on the couch, shirt pulled up over his gently swollen stomach, feeling too sick to even distract himself with LOLOL. The humidifier is making the room almost unbearably hot, and his sweaty bangs stick to his forehead. Maybe he’s imagining things but the heat seems like it’s curdling the milk in his stomach. He rolls himself onto his belly to pick up his phone to call 707, to make sure that this is really the right treatment. His stomach gives a lurch at the sudden jostling and pressure. “Hellooooo~?” Seven trills in his ear when he answers. The response he gets is the wet gurgling sound of wave after wave of chocolate milk being expelled from a shaking Yoosung, followed by dry sobs and a miserable moan into the receiver.

 **jaehee:** Jaehee is just in the mood to get wicked fucking drunk. Fuck this job. Fuck Jumin, and fuck his cat too. She doesn’t even bother to get a wine glass and instead just drinks straight from the bottle, curled up on her couch and watching a marathon of Zen’s films. Predicting the horrible hangover she’s going to inevitably have in the morning, she sends a quick text to Jumin, telling him that she’s coming down with the flu and is taking one of her sick days. She then promptly passes out halfway through Spicy Jalapeno, just having finished her second bottle of wine. The sound of a knock at the door wakes her up, torture to her pounding headache. She reluctantly drags herself to the door, and is surprised to see Jumin standing there, bags in hand. He explains that he had his chef prepare her some chicken noodle soup and bought some medicine for flu symptoms on the way over. Jaehee sways a little on her feet, and feels like something is inside her, clawing at her stomach while her boss speaks. “I suppose I may not always show my gratitude, but you’re essential to this company, so I want you well as soon as possible.” She steps forward and accepts the bags, and then her hands instinctively clasp onto Jumin’s shoulders, bracing herself against him as she pukes red wine all over his expensive italian leather shoes. “Thank you, Mr. Han,” she hiccups, before shutting the door in his face.

 **707:** The honey buddha chips and phD pepper seem to be waging a war inside Seven’s belly. He smiles when he imagines the honey buddha and the good doctor at each others throats, fighting for supremacy. His smile turns into a cringe as he doubles over at the feeling of a fierce cramp coming on. “Can’t you just get along, you two?” he moans out loud, trying to soothe the pain by rubbing his palms against his belly. He bounces anxiously in his computer chair, and feels his mouth start to water. “Stop, stop, stop~” he whines, hugging himself across his middle now, goosebumps rising on his flesh. He pants openly like a dog, swallowing back the quickly flowing saliva desperately. The intense nausea reaches a climax, and he lurches over, fizzy vomit rushing past his lips like an exploding soda can. He stays bent over, shuddering for a few moments before straightening. “Ugh, … I feel… so much better!” He leans back in his chair, looking incredibly satisfied as puke drips off his chin. He looks at his mess on the freshly waxed hardwood floor. “Mary isn’t going to be happy with me though…”

**Author's Note:**

> [this is on tumblr if you want to like/reblog](http://vidoxi.tumblr.com/post/154159202079/mystic-messenger-emeto-scenarios-because-im-gross)


End file.
